


Re-Meeting

by Infinite_Finals_Week



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Argo Captains the Mariah, Fitzroy is a Knight™, Gen, Loosely implied Maplekeene, M/M, Post-Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26521033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infinite_Finals_Week/pseuds/Infinite_Finals_Week
Summary: Argo finds Fitzroy at an anniversary party.
Relationships: Argo Keene & Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt, Argo Keene/Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	Re-Meeting

Argo will never be tired of the sea. It’s so deeply ingrained in him he can’t imagine a world without it. He bleeds his love for sailing. Part of it is the travel, the going to new places and the meeting new people. He sits on the Newcastle dock, listening to the sounds of people and waves crashing against the shore beneath him. The  _ Mariah  _ is moored close by, gigantic and imposing compared to the other ships docked here. 

Argo has been to Newcastle only once before, five years ago. That was the last time he saw Fitzroy. He had been ecstatic for at least the first few days there, then Argo had to leave, and they’d promised to keep in touch. That lasted for the next three months before Argo had sent a letter and never received one back. Argo still remembers the way Fitzroy had looked during their final hug before he’d gone to captain the  _ Mariah -  _ with his broad grin and bright eyes, he’d looked so very  _ Fitzroy  _ that even years later the thought of that expression brought a smile to Argo’s face.

Thoughts of Fitzroy and his goofy grin are pushed from his mind when a clocktower in the distance strikes six and Argo is brought back to what he came here for. The fifth anniversary of the closing of the Godscar Chasm is coming up, and with it comes fancy anniversary parties. Argo, as one of the people most responsible for the closing, is invited to almost every one of them. He makes a point to visit a new one every year, and supposedly the one he’s about to visit is the kind where stuffy officials stand around and talk about politics. But Newcastle isn’t exactly nearby to any other part of civilization, and as a result, the only place Argo could’ve gotten to reliably on time. 

Besides, as a naval hero himself, he technically falls under the “stuffy official” umbrella. He stands, dusting himself off, and walks down the dock. He enjoys the sound of his own boots on the wood. There’s a certain weight to the dull pounding of his heels that grounds him in the present, where he is a hero and a captain, and not just a teenager mourning the death of his mother and plotting revenge or even a young man thrown into an inherited secret society and a war plot. 

He’s only got half an hour until the party starts, so he books it towards the centre of the kingdom, brushing off anyone who recognises him with a friendly line and a wave. 

The location of the party is a massive mansion surely belonging to one of the kingdom’s higher-ups. He makes it in time, but he has to wait in a line for another half an hour to turn in his invitation so he’ll be allowed in. He hands it over to a bored-looking orc woman in full armour, who waves him into a truly gigantic room. Fantasy Clair De Lune is playing in the background. 

He’s immediately greeted with congratulations and handshakes. At least half of them claim they helped with the resulting onslaught of demons from the hell dimension after Grey’s assassionation. Argo doesn’t recognise anyone, but they sure recognise him. That isn’t too much of a problem. Argo is a social person, charismatic even at the worst of times. After a few hours of small talk, though, he starts to get antsy. He wants something to do with his hands. He excuses himself to an upstairs balcony, hoping to get a few minutes to fiddle with Agatha in peace. 

Agatha was his mother’s sword, a long time ago. He remembers the bolt of white-hot fury that had run through him when he saw the Commodore pull it from his belt the day Argo had killed him. He remembers the feeling of having it driven through him, of thinking that maybe he would be struck down by Shebrie Keene’s own blade, before the thought of it became too much for him and he’d struck back. He doesn’t use it much anymore, using it mostly for decoration, like Florence. Florence still sits in his office. The sword he used to fight Chaos isn’t easily discarded. 

He steps into the cool evening air, feeling the mist from the nearby sea and letting it overtake his senses for just a minute, filling every old mark and wound and scar with the waves and the water, allowing him to be - if for only a moment - whole, with perfectly sanded edges. It’s a feeling quickly broken by the presence of another person on the balcony. It’s not something Argo can complain about, though, not when he’s so keen to being knocked breathless by this very man.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and imposing - It’s Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt. He turns when he hears Argo, and his eyes widen in a sort of disbelieving recognition, as though Argo is a hallucination, or a dream he can’t let himself have. He does a little half-salute. “Argo! Or, should I say, _Captain_ _Keene_.” Fitzroy does a little half-laugh that makes it clear he understands that this is a sentiment that’s been made many times before. “It’s been forever since I saw you-you look well. Close the door and we’ll have a little _catch-up chit-chat_ , so to speak.”

Agro closes the door. “Fitzroy, hey!” He speaks well, but with the sick-sticky feeling in the pit of his gut that makes him feel like he’s tripping over his own words. “It really has been too long, huh? What’s- How’s it goin’? I’ve been out on the  _ Mariah, _ y’know? Just last month we made it to the Foxley Cliffs- my word, the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. A cryin’ shame they want to build houses ‘round that area. Somethin’ about the seclusion, y’know?” He tries to clear his throat but it seems like there’s been a wad of gum shoved down it so far he has to stretch to make any words come out. 

Fitzroy scans the lawn. “Yes, yes, Argo, I know about your expeditions - we get word of them in the papers. Knighthood, on the other hand, isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Did anyone follow you up?”

Argo is thrown for a loop by that one. “I dunno-I don’t think so- why? Are you in danger?”

“We both are, my excellent friend. Gotta get outta here, ASAP. You got any rope on you?”

“No? Why would I bring rope to a party? What’s goin’ on? I want  _ answers  _ before I do anythin’.” Argo crosses his arms over his chest.

“It’s not a party. It’s a trap. At ten tonight, the whole of the castle’s guards will swarm the place, capture us, and execute us. Turns out the queen got her magic from Chaos too, and she wasn’t exactly happy when we threw them into the deepest pits of the hell dimension and told them to stay there. My magic’s gone, for sure for sure, but so is hers and she’s not exactly  _ jived _ about it. I overheard her talking about it in the palace just last week.”

“Well that- stinks. We could probably create some sort of makeshift rope out of clothing? Would that work?” 

“We’ve got half an hour, and as time goes on there are going to be more and more guards being slowly let into the castle. The chances of someone not catching us by the time we’ve finished making the rope are zero-none. I walked around the mansion earlier today and it seems like there’s a back exit. There’s just one problem.”

“What? What is it?”

“You remember Rainer Michelle’s skeletons from back at school? Similar deal, but these are full-on dogs and they’re being controlled by-,”

“Someone who wants us dead, as opposed to our friend the necromancer who would kill for us at a moment’s notice. Unless Rainer is at this party and has been filled with the desire to do a murder on us for some reason- unless it  _ is _ Rainer?”

“No, no, one of the castle wizards. The thing is, he’s massively lazy- won’t do the necessary magic unless he thinks someone is looking. Which is where your rogue skills come in. And I guess, any potential I might have had as a rogue, because I will also need to sneak around.”

“Well. it’s a party, and since the two of us are kinda ‘special guests’ there’s not a very high chance both of us will make it out unnoticed. I could maybe do it, but together it’s not likely. We’ll have to act like we’re not tryin’a get out.” 

“Uh,  _ hate  _ it when I come across circumstances where magic would solve the problem instantly. If I were still all sorcerer-ified I could invisible us and we could make it out basically no problem.” Fitzroy sighs. “We can make it most of the way to the door, but after that we’ll need a distraction.”

“Sure, sure.” Agrees Argo. “I’ve got a plan, come on.” The two of them make it down the stairs no problem, They spend fifteen minutes exchanging pleasantries with partygoers before Fitzroy gets impatient.

“Reminder that we  _ are  _ on a timer here, Keene.”

“Al- _ right _ .” Across the room, a ten-foot block of icy water drops onto a cluster of people. “Run,” Argo grins, tugging Fitzroy in the direction of the exit. 

The two of them move as fast as they can without attracting too much attention. They scramble over the outside fence and bolt, only slowing down after they’re far enough away that tracking them down would be difficult. The  _ Mariah  _ sits in the distance. 

“I kind of hate to leave.” Fitzroy says. “But I  _ can’t  _ stay.”

“It’s either lose your knighthood or lose your life.” Argo reaches for one of Fitzroy’s hands. “But I understand that this is somethin’ you worked for for a long time, y’know.”

“Argo, are you seriously trying to tell me that you would understand if I stayed here and let myself get killed?”

“No! I don’t-no!” He sighs. “Just that I’m sorry that things didn’t work out. Really  _ sucks. _ ”

“No kidding. Let’s just keep going.” Fitzroy runs his other hand through his hair. 

Argo gets more and more antsy as they both make their way through the streets of Newcastle and towards the dock. Fitzroy is warm, and glows faintly in the evening, an aftereffect of Chaos’s magic on him. To actually worry about it seems silly, but Argo hopes his hand isn’t too sweaty. Memories of clutching a burning Fitzroy close to him during their fight with Chaos, believing so thoroughly that their lives were about to come to a close and that he wouldn’t prefer to die any other way. 

When they make it to the  _ Mariah,  _ Fitzroy stares up at the ship as though he’s examining it. “You’ve taken good care of her.” He says.

“Well,  _ yeah. _ She’s important to me.” 

“No, I can tell.” 

The two of them board the ship, are shortly confronted by one of the members of Argo’s crew, and they start to make preparations to depart.   
They disappear into the sunset with none the wiser. 

Fitzroy sits down and watches as Newcastle gets smaller and smaller in the distance. “My god. I’m really leaving.” He says.

“You can sleep with me in my quarters.” Argo offers, sitting down next to him. “Bed’s pretty big. We can drop you off wherever we land next, or if there’s someplace in particular you’d like’a go- I was going to Hattier next, but I’d be willin’ to change that.”

“Thank you. If you can drop me in Hattier, it’s not too long away from there to where my mother lives.” 

The evening fades into night, and Argo and Fitzroy talk enough they fade into each other.


End file.
